


The Star

by yuumizoomies



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Demacia, Gen, Targon - Freeform, crown of thorns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuumizoomies/pseuds/yuumizoomies
Summary: Renewal, Hope, and Peace
Relationships: Garen Crownguard/Taric
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	The Star

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this piece for a Zine yet released (?) called the League of Legends Tarot Zine. Hosted by rosymiz.

“What was it like?” 

“Well,” Taric begins, “the peace is overwhelming.”

“ _ And? _ ”

“ _ And… _ also dark, but it is not a horrible darkness. It’s more comfortable, like when you lie down to sleep.”

“What did you see?”

What had he seen? Visions of life and death that brought him to his knees. A soul burdened with knowledge, hidden behind a cluster of stars. Light, the warmth of it that seemingly blinded him but drew him closer, radiating like a distant planet just beyond his fingertips. The past, present, and future in words spoken like a storybook… and, nothing.

“Everything.” Taric replies, wistfully.

“How did you even get here? That trial, that mountain, all of it --  _ it’s impossible. _ ”

With his feet settled in the snow at the basin, he had looked up at where the stars twinkled through the cloud cover. Somehow, he’d overcome all the odds, and ended up on both his two good feet. He chanced a glance at his boots, where the leather had begun to weather with frost, to his hands that were still somehow pink with life. Not even the howling winds that roared from above could have silenced the disbelieving laughter that bubbled from him. 

“Nothing is impossible. I simply just walked.” He says, clasping his hands on his lap. “I walked for days, nights, I walked until the hunger in my stomach burned like a pit and the blood that filled the soles of my shoes wreaked. I walked until I found you. You were the only person I know who would believe me.”

Garen stares at him through the flicker of flames, glinting at where Taric sits in the grass opposed. Disbelief and anger, joy and happiness seem to reflect in his blue eyes that Taric can’t move his gaze from. All Taric returns is an even, easy silence. 

“You mean to tell me that you just  _ found me  _ out here?”

“Fate would have it that way.”

Garen is silent for a moment, looking instead from Taric to where the flames dance between them. He seems lost in thought. Taric doesn’t blame him, he knows his friend has a lot of questions to ask, and the Protector is patient above all things. 

“You…” Garen begins slowly, “Truly climbed that whole Mountain, just to make it here, to  _ me,  _ to offer an apology?” He gives Taric no room to speak, thinking out loud has he searches the pit for some sort of answer. “If what you say is true, then you are the first person to ever reach the Peak of Mount Targon and  _ live  _ to tell that story.”

“ _ If what I say is true? _ ” Taric parrots, softly still. “Do you not believe me?” 

“I don’t believe you would come back to the very people who did this, to  _ me, _ just to offer us an apology. What apology do you owe? You’ve paid your debt in your Crown of Thorns, Taric, I don’t understand -” 

“They won’t think so.” He stands, “That’s why I came to you, Garen. I have plenty of things to account for. I have blood on my hands that not even my ascent can clean, and the guilt you bear for what you bestowed upon me is sharp enough, a meager dog could scent it.”

“I am  _ not  _ guilty.” Garen protests warily, turning his head ever so slightly to squint at the other man as he rises in skepticism. “I was doing my part.” 

“Your part to exile me into days of torment?” 

Garen looks away completely, silent. Taric continues.

“It’s okay, I can’t ever hold that against you. In fact, I suppose I should thank you, or the ghost of my past mistakes. Targon taught me more about myself than I could have asked for, and though I know the throne couldn’t ever dismiss my misdeeds and the lives I so carelessly cost them, I feel as though… I’ve been cleaned.” He inhales deeply, looking upwards at the night sky. “I feel new.” 

“So  _ why  _ come back if you know they won’t allow you even past the gates?” Garen stands now, too, speaking with hands that reflect his confused exasperation. “What do you gain?”

Taric chuckles, crossing to where Garen stands tall before him. “Demacia is not a forgiving city. Nor are her people. I did not come here to you for their forgiveness. Their pardons would not come so easy.”

“Then what? You gain peace, to rest your conscious?”

“I have already gotten peace. Not from them, or you, but from something…  _ higher. _ ” He reaches out to take Garen’s hands, holding them gently in his own, a friendly but familiar embrace of two old soldiers meeting once again. “I never said I was coming back, Garen. I came here, now, to humble your regrets.” 

There’s a gentle silence that falls over the two of them while they stare helplessly at one another, before the Crownguard pulls Taric in for a long embrace.

“Where will you go?” He asks, desperate for an answer. His voice betrays him. Taric’s heart aches.

Where  _ will  _ he go now? Has a protector of all things, the world needs him to fight off evils unexplainable. The whole of Runeterra awaits. Nestled against his friend’s roughened chest, Taric stares up at the stars for an answer. 

Then, like an afterthought placed by someone else,  _ anywhere.  _ His purposes calls, and he must stand as a beacon of hope for what will come. He departs from Garen, looking up at him with a soft expression before sighing out heavily. His friend only sadly stares back.

“To greater things.” Taric answers, finally, drifting away to retrieve his glistening hammer from where it lays in the dirt. He bids his friend one final, heartfelt nod in goodbye before he begins to turn and leave, calling out over his shoulder as he does so, 

“My life has a new meaning now! Only good things can come of it!” 


End file.
